


Color Change

by papertowngirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychic Abilities, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Soulmates, Whump, Wincest - Freeform, Worried Dean Winchester, maybe smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-05 12:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papertowngirl/pseuds/papertowngirl
Summary: Soulmate AU where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate and your vision gets grayed out if they get hurt and everything turns black and white again when they die.Dean couldn’t decide whether the decision to go to Stanford and get Sam, so they could look for their father, was good or a bad idea, since it had both, extremely positive and unbelievably negative consequences.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
> so this is my first Supernatural fanfic I've ever published and it's also the first English fanfic I've ever written. English is, as you probably can guess, not my mother tongue so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes but at the same time feel free to point them out to me so I can correct them.  
> Okay, then let's get to it!

Dean couldn’t decide whether the decision to go to Stanford and get Sam, so they could look for their father, was good or a bad idea since it had both, extremely positive and unbelievably negative consequences. But before we get to that, we better start at the beginning of their love story…

 _December 14, 1982_  
When Mary Winchester asked her three-year-old son Dean if he could give her the babygrow, he learned about soulmates.

Little Dean sat on his parents’ bed, his feet dangling over the floor, and he looked excitedly at his mother.  
“A brother? I will really have a little brother?” he asked, his eyes sparkling as if he had been told he could have every pie in the world.  
Mary laughed. “Yes, a brother. Can you bring me the babygrow now?”  
She didn’t sound angry with Dean for not doing what he was told right away, but then again, he had never seen his mother really angry at all. She was always so happy, now more than ever.  
She held several clothes in her hand, all for the little newcomer who was to be born in about five months.  
“Which one?” Dean asked, still grinning widely, looking at the four babygrows spread out on top the bed.  
Mary was also bursting with endorphins, and probably pregnancy hormones, and forgot that Dean could not see any colors yet.  
“The blue one.”  
“Blue?” her son asked, tilting his head, the grin fading.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, the one with the bunny on it.”  
“What is blue?”  
Dean took the babygrow with the bunny, jumped off the bed and went to his mother.  
No colors were taught in kindergarten, and it wasn’t until elementary school people began to spend a few extra hours to explain the concept of colors to those who could already see them. Most people didn’t get to know their soulmates until after high school anyway and then they had extra classes for teaching colors, which people of all ages could join, which is why they were almost completely left out during the childhood and youth.  
Mary put the other clothes on a dresser to neatly fold them, took the babygrow from her son, and put it to the other clothes. She turned around, smiling gently at her son.  
“That’s a color, sweetheart.”  
“Color?”  
Dean looked even more confused now. His forehead had that little wrinkle that always appeared when he was confused or scared.  
“Yes, Dean, colors.” Mary crouched down to him. She knew she had to explain to her son what colors are at some point. That was usually stuck with the parents and it was a really difficult conversation. How do you explain to someone who only sees black and white until they meet their soulmates what colors are? It’s like explaining a deaf person the melody of ‘Eye of the Tiger’.  
Mary looked around and then grabbed a dark green and a light blue T-shirt, which would soon belong to Dean’s little brother.  
“Here,” she said, “how do you see this shirt?” She held up the green one.  
“It’s dark,” Dean replied.  
Parents only taught their children light, dark, and medium to describe objects. It was practically the same as white, black, and gray, without, however, mentioning colors, because shades of gray could vary and usually they can’t know exactly, whether, in the eyes of their child, which has not met their soulmate yet, a certain color was light or medium gray.  
“And this one?” Mary held up the other shirt.  
“Light.”  
“Exactly. That’s what you see. But actually, they have colors. This one is green and this one is blue. No one can explain a person who still has the same sight as you what those colors look like, but one day you will meet someone who will make the world a lot more beautiful. Colorful. Vivid.”  
Dean’s excitement made a tremendous return.  
“And who is that? Can we go visit them?”  
Mary laughed again. “I don’t know where they are, honey. You’ll just cross paths with them someday. Your daddy literally ran into me.”  
“And who will they be?”  
“I don’t know that either, sweetheart.”  
Mary’s heart tightened in her chest as the smile on Dean’s face disappeared and tears began to form in his eyes. She had to do something, fast.  
“But I know whoever it is will be a very special person. You will love him or her more than anything else in the entire world and they will love you just as much. They’ll be the most important person in your life and you will do anything for them. They are called soulmates.”  
“Soulmate…” Dean murmured, making a thoughtful face. “Is Daddy your soulmate?”  
Mary’s eyes softened even more if that was even possible.  
“Yes, sweetheart, your daddy is my soulmate.”  
“And you’re his?”  
“You’ve got it.”  
And just like that, the smile was back on Dean’s face.  
“Soulmates sound so fun! I can’t wait to meet them!” Dean began jumping excitedly up and down.  
“Me neither,” said Mary. _They will be truly special_ , she added in her had. She could feel it.

 

 _May 3, 1983_  
Mary didn’t expect her to be right about that statement. Not in this way

The day after the birth of Dean’s little brother was probably the day on which her life completely changed and not necessarily for the better.  
Dean had spent the night before, at the neighbor’s house, they were good friends of Mary, while John was in the hospital with her. Now he had picked up their eldest, so he could see his little brother for the first time.  
Once the door opened, Dean, who was beyond excited, immediately ran into the room and jumped up and down in front of the bed, still too small to push himself up. That didn’t stop him from trying, though.  
Mary lay on the hospital bed with a small bundle of blankets in her arms, his face not visible for Dean, and even as his father lifted him onto the bed, laughing, his brother’s face was hidden away behind the blankets.  
He tried to catch a glimpse, but from his position he just could not see him, so he tried to climb over Mary.

“Hey, little man, take it easy,” John said, holding his son tight as he moved too quickly on the bed, endangering his as well as Mary’s and the baby’s safety.  
“I’m not little anymore! I’m tall now! My little brother is the little one!”  
John and Mary started laughing, which Dean didn’t really like and resulted in his face getting angrier. That wasn’t lost to his mother.  
“Yes, Dean. You are no longer the little one in this family. You are a big brother now.”  
Dean beamed with pride and stuck his tongue out at his father who still grinned a little, but at the same time said in a warning tone, “Young man.”  
“Why don’t you go out and get me something to eat, sweetheart?” Mary asked her husband because if they went on like that, they would’ve just woken up the newest member of their family and one of them would’ve started crying. Or maybe two of them.  
John didn’t look surprised, but more like as if he asked with his eyes “Are you sure?”  
“Yes. Besides, I could use something other than the hospital food.”  
“Okay, darling,” John said, kissing her on the forehead. His eyes flew over the little face in the blankets, which Dean still couldn’t see, and then looked at him.  
“You take care of your mother and your little brother until I get back,” he ordered, pointing a finger at him warningly but also smiling. “You’re the man in this family while I’m gone.”  
If anyone thought Dean couldn’t look any prouder, with his big smile and outstretched chest, then they were wrong.  
“Yes, sir!” he said, sitting up on his knees, saluting.  
“Okay then.” John grinned and ruffled Dean’s hair again before disappearing out of the room.  
As soon as the door was closed, Dean stopped saluting and eagerly tried to catch a glimpse of his brother’s face again.  
“Can I finally see him?! Please!”  
Mary laughed gently and then said, “Of course.”  
Carefully, as if his little brother were going to break if she even touched him wrongly, his mother slid the blanket aside and said, “Say hello to your little brother, Dean: Sam Winchester.”

And that was the moment that changed Dean’s entire life, even though he was only four years old.  
As young as he was, he realized that everything was going to change now, and he was absolutely right with that.

The first color Dean Winchester ever saw was a dark bluish-brown in the eyes of his brother, who thenceforward played the most important role in his life.  
He was so fascinated by this play of colors, this balanced beautiful pattern, that he didn’t realize how everything else suddenly got more vivid as well. How gleam, shimmer, and colors replaced the monotone light-dark-based gray shades.  
For a few minutes, he just stared into the eyes of his brother.  
The eyes of his soulmate.  
It wasn’t until Mary worriedly said his name, and not for the first time by the sounds of it, that he looked up again.

The second color he ever saw was the glowing yellow of his mother’s hair.  
“Honey, are you okay?” Mary asked.  
Dean couldn’t answer. All these new colors required his full attention, and that even though there were not many different colors in that hospital room. The walls, the bed, the sheets, basically the entire room, everything was white. The only real colors were Mary’s hair, her eyes, which he noticed later, and of course, Sam’s. Sam’s eyes.  
He stared again into that bluish-brown as if he were trying to remember every line, every pattern, every millimeter.  
“Dean?”  
No matter how hard he tried to focus on something else, those eyes attracted all his attention. He couldn’t turn away. He didn’t want to.  
To not worry his mom anymore, however, he asked, “What color have his eyes?”  
Mary had expected everything but not this.  
“Some kind of a brownish blue, sweetheart. Why do you ask?”  
“They’re so… beautiful.”  
And suddenly, it dawned on Mary what was going on. She turned pale all at once.  
“Beautiful? Dean, can you… Do you see them? Do you see colors?”  
Still unwilling to turn away from his brother’s eyes, he nodded.  
“I think so.”  
In a flash, Mary moved Sam away from Dean, as if he had wanted to hurt him. As if Dean wouldn’t have given anything to make his brother feel safe and protected and loved. As if he wouldn’t have given his life for him right now, regardless of the fact that he was only four years old.  
“Oh my God…” Mary said stunned.  
“Hey!” Dean complained, reaching out for his soulmate with his little arms.  
“Give him back! He’s mine!”  
This confirmed all of Mary’s worst fears. She knew this sense of possession, not like ownership, but the feeling like two souls belonged to each other, and only one another, to no one else. It was the same feeling she had with John and vice versa. Jealousy was relatively rare since everyone knew exactly who they belonged to once they found each other, but that feeling of your soulmate being your most valuable possession was still permanent. It felt like you had to protect your partner all the time, make sure that he’s lacking nothing and like you always have to be with him to make sure the first two things are realized. It was quite exhausting actually, but at the same time, you knew your soulmate felt all of it too, would do all of it for you too, so it balanced out.  
“Sammy!” Dean shouted, on the verge of crying.  
Mary hadn’t noticed that she had just stared at her eldest son for several seconds. She didn’t know what to do. However, she didn’t feel any disgust or hatred for her sons, for soulmates, no matter the circumstances, were beautiful. Something God-given. Something impenetrable and unconditional. If they were to be soulmates, they should be soulmates.  
No, she felt no disgust. She felt grief because Sam and Dean could never be together the way soulmates should be.  
Within seconds, ideas about how to save this whole situation came and went through her mind.  
They could move somewhere far away, where nobody knew them. They could grow up as friends. Adopted. Non-biological brothers. Then it wouldn’t have been a real taboo anymore, but that wouldn’t have worked, because no matter how much she loved John, he wouldn’t have allowed it. He was way too outdated, way too normal for that. He wouldn’t have understood. He was never allowed to know. And as much as Mary wished her sons could have what she had, she couldn’t just leave John, her soulmate. She was too selfish for that.  
Mary also had some other ideas. She even thought about giving Sam away. Making sure, they’d meet “by accident”, but she knew all too well that it could never work. Such a past would’ve caught up with her. Such deeds would come to light, sooner or later.  
There was nothing she could do. She wouldn’t leave John, she couldn’t give Sammy away. They just simply had to live like that. Somehow.  
The most important part, however, was that John could never know. He was too conservative to tolerate… incest. He would separate Sam and Dean, make sure they would never find each other again. They would have to live without their soulmate. And worse than not knowing who his soulmate is, as it was for Sam, is getting his soulmate snatched away, as it could’ve been for Dean. She couldn’t do that to her own son. Then rather keep the two of them together, even if not the way they deserved.

“Mommy!” Dean shouted now, thick tears rolling down his cheeks.  
Finally, she was able to move again.  
“Okay, okay. Dean, listen to me.”  
“No! Give him to me!”  
Mary realized that Dean wouldn’t listen to her until he calmed down, and she really had no time for that now because John could be back any second.  
“Okay, here. Hold your arms as I do.”  
Dean did it without hesitation.  
“Good. You have to be very careful. And hold his head, he’s not strong enough to hold it himself yet.”  
He nodded eagerly, and Mary carefully placed him in his arms. And immediately his tears were gone. And Sam’s too. She hadn’t noticed Sam had also started crying and she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t seen the wet cheeks of her youngest son, because as soon as Dean had him in his arms and they could look at each other, they both stopped crying. As if all evil in the world had just disappeared. Mary already knew the bond between the two brothers was something special. Strong. Very strong.  
“It’s alright, Sammy. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” Dean whispered, and now it brought tears to Mary’s eyes. She saw exactly what her sons could have had together but would never have the possibility to.

Now that Dean was quiet, she tried to talk to him again.  
“Dean? Dean, you need to listen to me now, all right?”  
He did not respond.  
“Dean! Look at me!”  
He hesitantly obeyed.  
“I’ve told you the reason why people start to see colors, right? Can you remember?”  
Dean nodded. “Yes. They start to see colors when they meet their soulmate.”  
The indescribable smile on his face broke Mary’s heart.  
“Sammy is my soulmate?!” His eyes immediately returned to his little brother. “Sam, we are soulmates!”  
“Dean! Dean _listen_ to me! That’s right, Sam is your soulmate, but nobody can ever know that, okay? Not your daddy, not Sammy, _no one_ , you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”  
If Sam himself would never know who his soulmate is, then maybe at least one of her sons could have a happy life. As much as it hurt Mary, now it was all about harm reduction.  
The smile, which could’ve ended all wars, immediately disappeared again. It was an up and down of emotions.  
“But… but why?”  
It felt like someone ripped Mary’s heart out and threw it onto the floor over and over again.  
“Because people could try to separate you. Someone could take Sammy away from you.”  
She felt like shit when she played that card, but she knew it was the only one that made Dean fully understand how serious this situation was.  
“No!” Dean shouted, holding Sam close. “No! He’s my Sammy! Nobody can take him away from me!”  
“And nobody will, as long as you keep to yourself that you two are soulmates. Nobody can know about it. Especially not your dad. You have to keep pretending that you can’t see any colors. Do you understand me?”  
Again, Dean nodded eagerly.  
“You have to promise! You have to swear it!”  
“I swear.” He didn’t care what he swore and how hard it would be to keep this vow in the future. He would’ve promised to freeze hell right at this moment just so Sam could stay with him.  
He looked back to Sam. “I swear. Nobody can take him away from me. He’s mine. Mine.”  
Mary blinked the tears away and gently stroked Dean’s cheek with one hand, but he didn’t seem to notice.  
“Yes. Yours.”

When John came back into the room, Mary lay tensely relaxed in her bed, Dean in her arms, who in turn held Sam.  
“Oh, look at that. My perfect family,” he said, putting the takeout bag on a small table.  
He went to the bed and kissed his wife on the head.  
“And? Did I miss something?”  
Mary smiled, although a little sad, but John didn’t notice since he looked at his two sons.  
“No. Nothing.”  
_Only the most important event in the lives of your sons._


	2. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam learns about soulmates and, some years later, leaves for Stanford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
> Just something I want to say beforehand.  
> I'm not able to write regularly. That means, sometimes I will upload a few chapters in one month and sometimes only one chapter will be uploaded after a few months. I will continue this story until the end but don't expect weekly updates or anything.
> 
> That being said, have fun reading and feel free to tell me what you think! ^^

Mary spent the next few weeks explaining Dean everything about colors. Whenever John wasn’t there, of course. In the beginning, she was still worried Dean was going to babble, make use of the newly learned colors, but the fear of someone taking Sam away from him prevented it altogether. In fact, the fear was so ever-present that he didn’t even use colors when he was alone with Mary and Sam.

Logically, for the first few months, Sam spent a lot of time with his mother and consequently, Dean spent a lot of time with her too, since he almost never let Sam out of his sight. Every day it became clearer how strong and powerful their connection was. Sometimes, when Sam cried, Dean was the only one who could calm him down.  
John didn’t seem to notice any of this and if he did, he didn’t appear to find it unusual. He was actually glad that Dean was not jealous of his new little brother, as it was the case with many other siblings.

On the day of the fire, Dean didn’t wake up from the screams, not from the loud crackle of the flames and the house, not from the rapidly rising temperature, but from a feeling. Something inside him told him something was wrong. Very wrong. His first intuition was, naturally, looking for Sam. But when he heard the screams of his mother, his father and of his little brother, pure panic spread through his body. He forgot to breathe and only when his father put Sam into his arms with the words “Take your brother outside as fast as you can!”, his lungs filled with air again. The fact that his mother was burning above him on the ceiling, was secondary at that moment. Sam was okay and that was all Dean needed to be okay.

From that day on, everything changed.  
John started drinking, disappearing, sometimes for weeks in a row, he started hunting and all of a sudden, Dean had to grow up. He had to take care of Sammy. That was not what bothered him, though. Not in the least. It bothered him that their dad was constantly away. That Sam hardly got to see him anymore, that John started missing and would keep missing all of Sammy’s firsts. First baby tooth, first steps, first words, first _everything._  
At some point, Dean realized that they had not only lost their mother that night.  
The two brothers now only had each other and if that didn’t hurt one thing, then it was their bond.

When Sam got older, elementary school age and Dean prevailed that they would stay in one place for more than three weeks tops so that his little brother could at least get a somewhat normal education, Sam started making friends. Normal friends with normal lives. From then on it didn’t take long for someone to tell him about soulmates.

Since Sam obviously never had the black-and-white sight and was able to see colors from his second day on this earth, Dean had to explain to him early on that there were people who couldn’t see them. He lied and said he himself was one of those people because even after their mother’s death, he was controlled by the overwhelming fear of someone taking Sam away from him, which he wouldn’t be able to handle. He explained to him light and dark, but no colors, because if one remained true to the lie, he couldn’t know which colors existed and even less what they looked like. But there was also another intention behind it. Dean told Sam he and his father couldn’t see any colors because, after Mary’s death, John’s world was dominated by shades of grey again. Literally. He didn’t mention reason though. He told him their dad might be saddened if he’d learn that Sam can see colors since he was denied that pleasure. So, they talked in the “light-dark language” at home. John never found out that Sam and Dean could see colors, and Sam never found out that Dean also wasn’t just seeing black and white.

In kindergarten, a teacher, who noticed Sam was able to see colors, was kind enough to tell him which color has which name so Sam could learn them, but neither Dean nor anyone else ever told him why over half of humanity couldn’t even see them. Only in elementary school, in a conversation with his friends, the truth came out.

On that afternoon, when Dean picked Sam up from school, his little brother was totally lost in his thoughts. Normally, Sam was very talkative, told Dean everything he had learned that day, but now he was quiet, completely withdrawn.

Dean tried several times to make him talk on the way to the motel, where their father had dropped them off again days ago, but Sammy just kept insisting nothing was wrong and that he was just tired. Even at a young age, he was more mature than many adults. He continued this masquerade all day long until Dean heard little sobs from the bed farthest from the door late at night.  
“Sammy?” he asked, immediately sitting up in his own bed. Dean didn’t know if it was because they were soulmates or if the fraternal connection was enough, but he was tuned to his brother on so many levels. No matter what it was about, whether Sam cried, was happy or angry, hid something from him, good or bad things, or if he was just thinking about a better life, Dean always noticed what was going on. And even if he couldn’t identify it exactly, he at least knew something was going on and simultaneously felt the same, regardless of what emotion.

The sobbing stopped at once, but Dean knew he hadn’t imagined it. This thought was confirmed when Sam suddenly couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and began to whimper again, stronger this time.  
Dean got out of his bed and sat on the edge of Sam’s in under a second.  
He didn’t say anything. It hadn’t worked all day, so he just sat there and started to gently run his fingers through Sammy’s hair. He would start talking when he was ready.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked after a few minutes, his voice no more than a whisper, his back still turned to his brother.  
Dean was confused. Sam knew everything Dean knew. He knew about monsters, why they would always move around, where Dad always went and even how their mother died. The only thing he didn’t know was the… well… the most important thing.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Why did you never tell me that you’ll leave me someday?”  
If Dean was shocked once in his life, it was then. How could Sam think Dean would ever leave him? That he would be _able to_ leave him?  
“What are you talking about, kiddo? I won’t leave you.”  
Without any prior warning, Sam almost literally leaped out of bed and looked at his brother with huge sad red eyes, tears ran down his cheek and behind all the sadness in his eyes, he could see a little bit of anger. This mixture scared Dean.  
“Yes, you will! You will! Someday you will find your soulmate and have your own family and leave me and then I will be all alone!”  
Dean’s heart was breaking at that very moment, for he had never seen his little brother so desperate and devasted. Not even, when he learned that monsters were real. And no matter how terrified he was of hearing the word “soulmate” out of Sam’s mouth, he would do (almost) anything to change that facial expression of distress of his little brother into something less disturbing.

“Hey, hey, hey. Sam. No.” Dean wanted to hug him, but Sam shook his arms off and stood up. More and more tears ran down his cheeks.  
“You should’ve told me! You will find your soulmate, start a whole new life with her, get out of _this_ life and leave me alone with all the monsters and I won’t be able to do anything about it! Dad is always gone and you… you’re the only one I’ve got! And I’m going to lose you!”

Sam quickly tried to get to the bathroom, almost ran there, but Dean was still taller than him, had longer legs than he did. He held his little brother by the arm and, against all resistance, pulled him to him.  
“Sam, no! Listen to me! I won’t go any- Sam, stop!”  
His little brother started hitting Dean desperately but didn’t try to run away anymore. Dean saw his chance and after a strong tug, he had a trembling and sobbing Sammy in his arms.  
Whatever it was that made Sam stop the punches, Dean thanked God for it. He was still crying, sobs that shattered his own heart into a thousand pieces, but he stopped fighting them and his brother, allowed himself to be protected by him.  
When Sam’s legs buckled and he sank to the floor, Dean followed him without hesitation.  
“Shh… It’s okay, Sammy. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I won’t go anywhere.”  
“Yes, you will. Eventually.”  
“Who says that?”  
It was both, rhetorical question that should tell his brother that this was complete bullshit, and a sincere question. He wanted to know who had told Sam that crap.  
However, Sam said nothing, only pressed himself even more to Dean’s chest. Dean also didn’t push him further.

Neither of them knew how long they sat there on the floor, Sam in the arms of his big brother, but eventually, the youngest Winchester had calmed down a bit and Dean dared to push him away an inch.  
The tears were still streaming down his cheeks, but Sam didn’t look as though he wanted to flee anymore.  
“Come on, let’s get back on the bed, the floor is way too cold.”

Both sat cross-legged on Sam’s bed, Sam looking down at his hands, which he had folded in his lap. Some tears he didn’t notice as they fell on his fingers, others he wiped away before they had even left his eyes.  
It hurt Dean to see his little brother like that. The thought of him leaving Sam was anchored deep in the youngest Winchester and Dean just couldn’t do it anymore. He took his brother’s hands and held them before they could aggressively rub his eyes again.  
“Who said I would leave you?” Dean asked because whoever it was, they were going to get a good kicking.  
Sam shook his head slowly. Sadly.  
“Nobody.”  
“Don’t lie to me.”  
“I’m not lying. Nobody said that.”  
“Why do you believe it then?”  
A small shrug was the only answer Dean got. He sighed.  
“Sammy.”  
It was just a word, a name, but it said it all. It was a plea, a question, a demand, all mixed up with pure understanding, love, and the fact that no matter what Sam said now, Dean wouldn’t be mad at him.  
Now Sam sighed.  
“At… At school, my friends and I talked about soulmates. Well, they talked. In the beginning, I just listened. They’ve said that your soulmate is the love of your life and you will eventually have a family with them and no one else matters anymore but your soulmate. And when I asked how you know who your soulmate is, they told me that you start seeing colors as soon as you meet him or her for the first time, and they disappear again when he dies. And I was confused, because I can see colors, and everyone was so excited. They thought I have already met my soulmate, but I haven‘t! I’ve always been able to see colors! I thought, maybe I was just born that way. Maybe I’m just different… A freak.”

Dean’s heart broke all over again. Sam immediately blamed himself. Dean already noticed early on that Sam sometimes felt different and by that, he didn’t just mean the hunting life but just _different._  
Most of the time he was able to calm his little brother down, but sometimes he was just so lost in that thought, even at a young age, that even Dean couldn’t pull him out of it. Dean also felt guilty whenever that was the case because he was convinced that it was because of their soulmate bond. That Sam’s soul somehow knew who his true soulmate was and fought it. Another reason why Dean didn’t tell him.

“But then I thought I must have met my soulmate already,” Sam continued. “Probably as a baby. Maybe even when Mom was alive, and I just can’t remember it. And my soulmate was probably a baby too and knows no more where I am than I know where he is. But that’s not even the worst thing about it. The worst thing is that you can’t see any colors, which means you have yet to meet your soulmate and when you do she will be the most important person in your life and you will start a real life with her and buy a house and have children and I won’t matter anymore and I’m going to be all alone, because I’ll never find my soulmate! We wouldn’t even know if we met each other because we both can already see colors! We could walk next to each other and we would never know! So you’re going to have a happy life someday, probably even a normal life and I mean, I want you to be happy and all, but then I’m all alone and no one will ever-“

“Stop!” Dean screamed and regretted it immediately when Sam flinched, but he just couldn’t let him continue. Sam’s whole monologue had hurt more than anything Dean had ever heard, but letting Sam say that nobody would ever love him would have been too much. Because Dean loved him, more than anything else, and also more than anything else he wished that he could just tell Sam the truth, but still his mother’s words were deeply rooted in his soul and yes, even if it was selfish, Dean couldn’t risk losing Sam by telling someone about them. He was now the only one who knew, and he would stay the only one if that meant he wouldn’t lose him.

Despite all this, Dean noticed some things during Sam’s panicked speech:

1\. When Sam spoke of Dean’s soulmate, he always took the feminine pronoun “she”, whereas when he spoke of his own soulmate, he always used the male pronoun “he”. It was as if Sam already knew that his soulmate would be a boy. As if his soul already knew that.

2\. Sam didn’t bother that Dean had concealed the reason why he could see colors and others could not, or the fact that he didn’t know who his soulmate was. He was so upset because Sam was so certain Dean would eventually leave him and he would be all alone.

3\. And last but not least, Dean noticed that Sam mentioned in his panicky speech that he only wants the best for his brother. That Dean should be happy. And at that moment, he already got a glimpse into the future, because if Sam was already selfless enough to wish Dean only the best, how would it be when he gets older? Now, at his elementary school age, he said that Dean should have a good life, but at the same time, he was still a little boy who was incredibly afraid of losing his big brother. But once he was older, Sam’s selflessness would grow as well, and he would place Dean’s needs clearly before his own, no matter if because of the soulmate bond or not, and that infernally frightened the older Winchester.

Especially point 3 became very clear two weeks before his 16th birthday. The conversation many years ago ended with Dean reassuring his little brother that he would never be alone, no matter what, without talking about his erroneous yet-to-come soulmate. However, Sam didn’t believe him to 100% and that is probably one of the reasons it came to this new conversation:

In another run-down motel room, Sam sat at a wooden table and was writing an essay. Dean sat relaxed on the couch watching some show when Sam completely unexpectedly said the phrase that made his blood run cold.  
“I’m going to look for my soulmate.”  
Dean didn’t know what he should do at first, so he grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.  
Still, he had to say something because he noticed how Sam, who, as Dean only became aware of now, had held his pen for at least thirty minutes, but hadn’t written a single word, became increasingly nervous.  
“How… Where did that come from?”  
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said, shrugging, but pushed away his inchoate essay conspicuously inconspicuous.  
“And…” Dean continued, swallowing. “How are we going do that?”  
Sam looked sad, but at the same time determined.  
“Not we. I.”  
If Dean’s blood was already cold, it was now freezing to zero.  
Sam wanted to go alone. Without Dean. He wanted to _leave._  
Dean tried to stay calm, to talk to Sam, as if his heart wasn’t just bursting into a million pieces.  
“Okay, then… How are _you_ going to do that?  
Sam shrugged again. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something. But I’ll wait until I’m eighteen. So that…”  
_So that Dad can’t stop me._ Sam didn’t say that, but Dean heard it as if he had really finished his sentence.  
The older Winchester nodded slowly. He just didn’t know what to say. Sam could search for as long as he wanted, he wouldn’t find his soulmate. In any case, nowhere where Dean was not, but he was still too afraid to tell his little brother the truth. Not if there was still the slightest possibility that they could be separated for good.

Their father would split them up immediately, without a doubt. His strict parenting, his training, raising his sons like soldiers and generally his whole way of living wouldn’t allow him to be okay with his sons committing incest. Not to mention that Sam might not even want it to happen. Maybe _Sam_ would have left immediately if he’d known his own brother was his soulmate.  
And even if their dad was to find out Sam and Dean were soulmates, they couldn’t even rely on the law. Of course, Dean had already done research to find out if they were the only siblings who were also soulmates.  
They were not.  
There have been some cases where a situation like theirs came to the public’s attention. All of them were in court, trying to override the taboo of incest with the rights of soulmates, but siblings were never allowed to be together like this. It was quite the opposite actually. They were usually separated. That a partner without his soulmate can’t survive in the long run, be it because of depression or even physical illness caused by the separation, depending on the strength of the bond, didn’t matter.  
The opponents of the incest soulmates repeatedly referred to the high chance of miscarriages and births of children with disabilities. And enforcing an agreement of all states concerning gay incest, without the risk of pregnancies, was impossible anyway.  
In short, it was legally forbidden to fuck your brother even if he was your soulmate, so Dean had no choice but to tell no one anyway.

The following night, while Sam was fast asleep, Dean sneaked out of bed, took his brother’s backpack and fished Sam’s essay out of it. He noticed immediately that is wasn’t finished, but already based on the headline, Dean could guess why his little brother suddenly wanted to look for his soulmate.

_How To Be A Better Person  
By Sam Winchester_

_Donating massive amounts of money? Giving homeless people food? Ending world hunger?_  
_There are endless possibilities to become a better person, but hardly anyone tries. These huge goals, these huge notions of a “good human being” prevent us from even trying to improve._  
_Almost everyone thinks that a good person is a perfect person, but no one who has ever done something good was perfect and not everyone who has done something great was good at heart. It’s not the big things that make you a better person, because it is often the case that the little things, which go almost unnoticed, add up and can change a whole life for the better._  
_Everyone thinks that a good person does something good for the entire world. Now, having that mental image stuck in your head, it’s hardly surprising that people think you must do something earth-shattering to improve yourself. But the question is, why does everyone think of a perfect person when you’ve actually said, “a better person”?_  
_No matter how much money you donate, how much food you give homeless people, how much good you do; you are not perfect. Nobody is perfect. Nevertheless, you should never give up, never stop trying to be a better person._

_Little things mean a lot. Little gestures, little conversations, little moments. For the people who love you and who you love the most? Those count. Not the expensive, thoughtless presents, but making breakfast for your partner. Not the big promises people won’t keep anyway, put a meaningful conversation. Not expectations, but gratefulness._  
_Don’t expect people to but your needs and wishes before their own, if you’re not willing to change yourself and make someone other than yourself the most important person in your life._  
_Humanity is selfish, so ask yourself: Does everything always have to be about you?_  
_You are short of cash? Find yourself a job and don’t ask your parents all the time. Your living room is a mess? Then clean it up and don’t wait for someone else to do it. You’re hungry? Make dinner for you and your family and don’t expect your mother to serve you after a long day at work. Somebody deserves to be happy? Then don’t stand in their way to find that happiness just to make yourself feel good or important. Should others suffer just because they love you? If you love them back, then show it. Be a better person not by doing some great things that people who never knew you will read about in history books later but by showing the ones you love the most that you can, too, be a good person. That you, too, can change their life for the better. That you can_

Dean could pinpoint the exact moment when Sam stopped talking about humanity in general and started referring to Dean and himself and also the point where his little brother started to think about their soulmate situation.  
In this essay, Sam describes himself as a person who did not already do all the things he said are necessary to be a “good person”. As if he didn’t already go to work sometimes, against Dean’s will, to save some extra money for really bad times. As if Sam wasn’t already doing almost all the chores while Dean was at work or hunting with John.  
As if Sam wasn’t the most selfless person on this planet.

Neither he nor Sam addressed this topic again. Not until a few weeks after Sam’s high school graduation.

The two brothers sat together with John in yet another motel room. Dean sat at the dining table with his father and was discussing a hunt when Sam suddenly and without warning said, “I scored a full ride.”  
It didn’t even take 0.02 seconds and the faces of the elder Winchesters flew from the papers on the table to Sam, eyes boring into his soul.  
He was sitting on the sofa, arms on his knees, head down and a white thick open letter in his hand. Since when he had it, neither of them knew.  
“No,” was all that John said before he returned to his hunting preparations.  
Sam sighed, for he already knew that would happen.  
“For Stanford.”

No matter how angry, sad and pissed Dean wanted to be, at that moment he couldn’t be prouder. His little brother was admitted to an elite university. And that with a full ride. And he’d even prepared it all behind their backs, which hurt terribly but was also very impressive.

“Great, so you have once again proven what’s in that brain of yours, but the answer stays no.”  
“I’m not a minor. You have no right to decide about my future anymore.”  
Sam still didn’t look up. Something in Dean told him that his little brother already knew exactly how that evening was going to end. And this something also had a hunch and he did not like it at all.  
“I’m your father. I’ll always have a say when it is about your future.”  
“No you won’t,” Sam stood up now. “And I’m leaving in two weeks.”  
Desperate, but more annoyed than that, John raised his head again and looked at his son. Dean was still in the same position as when Sam had dropped the bomb.  
“No, you’re not.”  
Sam sighed again. It seemed as if he was already exhausted from the fight that was bound to follow.  
“I’ve already-“  
“I don’t care. You will not leave this family. End of the discussion.”  
What Sam did next was anything but what Dean had expected. And apparently, their father was just as surprised because when he heard Sam say the words “Okay… sure. I knew you wouldn’t be proud anyways” and saw him throwing the letter, on whose envelope one could clearly see the Stanford emblem, in the trash and disappearing into the bathroom after that, John Winchester was speechless. For a few minutes, even. No one had ever managed to make John Winchester speechless, not even for a second, and Sam had just managed to keep him completely quiet for several hundred seconds.

Dean stared completely perplexed at the opened envelope from which a piece of paper fell out during the fall into the trash bin. Still, you could only read the first few lines.

_Dear Sam.  
Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we offer you admission to the Stanford University Class of 2001_

It wasn’t until the same evening that Dean realized how Sam had seen the day ending right from the get-go.  
Around 11:00 pm, when John thought his sons were already sleeping, which neither of them did, he took the letter out of the trash bin and burned it. Dean had his face turned to Sam’s back while Sam stared at the wall, which was illuminated in orange from the flames.  
Dean expected a reaction from his little brother, for he knew he wasn’t asleep either, but nothing happened.  
At midnight, John, too, went to bed.

Around 03:00 in the morning, Dean was woken up by noises next to him. He opened his eyes and saw how Sam closed his duffle bag and then let his head hang with a sigh.  
“I know you are awake,” Sam said suddenly, and Dean was about to say something when John spoke first, and he realized Sam wasn’t even talking to him.  
“You are not leaving.”  
Sam took his duffle and put it on the table.  
“Yes, I am.”  
“I forbid it.”  
“I don’t care.”  
Dean heard John sit up and then get out of bed completely. With furious steps and ignoring Dean who was actually supposed to be sleeping, or maybe even knowing that he was awake anyway, he quickly walked over to Sam. Face to Face, they stared at each other angrily.

“You really want to leave us? Your own family? You want to leave Dean?!” John screamed. He knew that was a low blow because although John didn’t know his sons were soulmates, he still knew that Sam was the most important person in Dean’s life and Dean the most important person in Sam’s.  
“ _I_ am leaving _you_?!” The desperation of the youngest Winchester swiftly changed to anger as well.  
These two knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons. They were so alike, even if neither of them wanted to see it. There is a reason why people say opposites attract because the logical conclusion would be that resemblances repel and while Sam and Dean were different in many things, John and his youngest had a lot in common.  
“Who was always away?! Who pushed us off in motels and disappeared for weeks at the time?! How could you leave your two and six-year-old sons alone for _weeks_ without having a guilty conscience?! _You_ don’t get to tell me anything about leaving!”  
Only a few inches were between their faces now. Angry, they breathed and stared each other in the eyes.  
“I always returned! I didn’t leave you! Leaving is going away and never coming back!” John shouted.  
“Oh yes! You came back! And how long did you stay? Three days? Four? In which, I might add, you dragged us across the whole country! And for what?! Only to find Mom’s killer and that for almost two decades now. Eighteen years went by and you still haven’t found him! You destroyed our lives, Dad, the lives we could’ve had, Dean and me. But I am going to get it back now and I wish Dean would come with me so his life wouldn’t be controlled by such a selfish bastard anymore!”

That was the moment both Sam and Dean had been expecting since the youngest Winchester mentioned the full ride.  
John’s fist collided hard with Sam’s face, but he stood firm as his head flew sideways.

Several seconds passed, in which John was still staring at Sam furiously, Sam wiped the blood from his lip and Dean slowly straightened up. He could stop pretending to be asleep, since all their neighbors were probably woken up from their screaming by now, too.  
“Yes!” John shouted. “Dean stays here! And do you know why? Because he is a good son! Strong, brave and fucking loyal! And most importantly grateful! You are just a huge disappointment!”  
Everyone in the room knew very well, most of all Dean, that Sam was all those things too, but not necessarily as a son, but as a brother. He was strong for his brother, he was loyal to his brother, he was brave because of his brother and most importantly grateful for and to his brother. But no one mentioned that. Not John, because it would have invalidated his arguments, and not Sam and Dean because they both knew exactly who was the most important in each other’s lives, but no one ever said it out loud. They didn't have to and if they would've said it, it would've been as if they were divulging a secret that was really just for them. As if it wouldn't have been so intimate, so… important anymore, if they would've tried to put it into words.

“Dad…” Dean intervened. “You don’t mean that.”  
“You bet I mean that! He applied for college, Dean! And he was accepted too! He made his point clear, but that doesn’t give him the right to fucking leave!”  
“Of course, because you disappoint your parents so much when you get accepted into a very good university and have a chance of a good and successful life!”  
“Success! Is that what you want?! Doesn’t lifesaving count as a success for you?!”  
“Of course it does! I’m not saying that it’s bad what we do, but I don’t understand why we have to be the ones who suffer! Why _hunters_ have to suffer. Why do we have to sacrifice everything?!”  
“Someone has to do it! Life ain’t fair, son. I thought you’d learned that when your mother burned in _your_ nursery!”  
“It’s not my fault Mom died! And besides, I didn’t even know her! I don’t know _anything_ about her! You never told me about her! How am I supposed to go on some kind of crusade for a woman I don’t even remember?!”

By the time Sam finished his little speech, John had already knocked over some furniture and Dean got up cautiously. The hurt in his eyes was obvious but he couldn’t deny the truth. They had really never told Sam about their mom. How would he know what she was like when the only people who knew anything about her didn’t tell anyone?

After a few seconds, John ran his hand over his face so fiercely that the brothers knew that what was coming now, would decide everything.

“And you call me selfish?” John asked in a very deep, fierce, but still perfectly calm voice. It sent shivers up and down their spines.  
“I am selfish because I want to have a normal life without being constantly afraid that I won’t experience the next month? Ah, what am I talking about? The next week! Maybe even the next day. And without the permanent fear that one of you won’t come back?”  
Dean knew how often Sam was alone in a godforsaken motel room and was so scared that his brother and father, or maybe even both, would not come home. Especially when Sammy was younger and only Dean was allowed on hunts. Often Dean came home a few hours, sometimes even days, later than he had said he would and although Dean called him as many times as he could, he came back to a trembling and crying Sam many times. He would lay in Dean’s bed, face pressed into his pillow. These were the worst moments for Dean. When he had to leave Sam alone.

“You should know, because Stanford and all, that Dean and I won’t stop hunting if you leave! Something could still happen to us, you would still have that alleged fear, but you wouldn’t be around anymore to actually see it! You’d only make it easier for you since you wouldn’t see us die! If you would even care at all!”  
“Dad!” Dean shouted. Everyone here knew Sam was a caring person, probably the most caring out of all of them, but they weren’t arguing anymore to find a solution if they wanted to find one in the first place. They were fighting to hurt each other one last time before Sam would leave.  
An angry farewell wasn’t as painful as a true farewell.  
“You can still call me when you need help. It’s not like I’m leaving and cutting you out of my life entirely. I’m just going to California and stay in one place for more than a few months tops. I can visit you and you can drop by if you have a case nearby.”  
“Oh no, not like that. We don’t do anything halfway. If you go, you stay gone, you hear me?”  
_‘No, no, no!’_ Dean thought. And now it was not so much about his own pain anymore, but rather the fact that John would also forbid Dean visiting Sam and vice versa.  
Everyone knew that soulmates who split up or got separated could get sick. Dean wasn’t worried about himself, but about Sammy. While the older one would probably suffer more, since the stronger the bond between two soulmates, the greater the severity of any mental or physical illness and only Dean knew they had that bond in the first place, Dean was still more concerned about his little brother’s health than about his own. No matter what you did, no matter how selfish you were as a person, you could never be selfish to your soulmate.  
If Sam had known about their connection, he wouldn’t have been _able to_ leave, since it would’ve hurt Dean and their bond wouldn’t have allowed it. It would’ve _forced_ Sam to stay. Or Dean to follow him. But following Sam wasn’t an option either, because he loved him so much and didn’t want to ruin his chance for a normal life. Maybe his little brother could still find someone else. A young woman who had already lost her soulmate but didn’t want to spend her whole life alone. Those existed. People who were together after their real soulmate died and some even got together before they met their true soulmate. This kind of love existed too, this boyfriend-girlfriend-relationship love, but still, the soulmate bond was so much stronger and incomparable to all other emotions.

Sam took another deep breath and then said with cold but hurt eyes, “Do you know what most fathers are when their children achieve something like this? Proud.”  
“Well, I’m not. Why should I be? You stop saving lives to go to school! You won’t achieve anything useful with that! You’re right, Sam. I am not proud.”  
John looked at him, disappointed and angry, and then said, softer now, “You never became the son Mary wished for.”

 _‘Lie, lie, lie!’_ all the voices in Dean’s head screamed.  
_‘Mary had already got college brochures when she was pregnant,’_ John thought.  
_‘I didn’t even know her. She didn’t know me. It doesn’t matter. But why does it hurt so damn much?’_ Sam wondered.

For a few heartbeats, nobody said anything. The lie, of which only Dean and John knew wasn’t true, was in everyone’s head.  
“I’m really sorry I’m such a disappointment,” Sam finally said, grabbing his duffle bag, which was now lying on the floor, thanks to John’s outburst of rage during which the furniture had to suffer.  
Dean didn’t know if it was just him, but it sounded like the apology was sarcastic when it was directed to John, but honest and sincere when directed to Dean.  
Sam went to the door and opened it. The cold night air, compared to the aggressive heat inside, poured into the room.  
“Remember what I said, Sam,” his dad said one last time, anger still covering 99.9% of the fear in his voice. “You go, you-“  
“Stay gone. Yeah, I know. Just remember that was your rule.”  
With his hand on the doorknob, Sam turned to Dean one last time, with sad and apologetic eyes, then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Dean didn’t know what it was, what made him run after Sam. Maybe it was their soulmate bond, maybe their fraternal connection was enough, or maybe it was just his own pain.  
Whatever it was, it let Dean storm out of the motel room, barefoot and only in a boxer and T-shirt, and shout “Sam!”.  
Sam had already several steps behind him but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his big brother call his name.  
Dean all but ran to Sam and stopped with only a few feet between. Sam had still turned his back to him. He sighed.  
Sam knew if Dean would ask him to stay, he would and he didn’t even know why. Why he could never deny Dean a wish. Why he was always completely fixated on Dean’s well-being.  
Looking back, he should’ve known. It was so obvious.  
However, Dean, too, knew he only needed to ask Sam and he’d stay, but he didn’t want to take his little brother the chance to have a normal life.

“You really want to go?”, he asked.  
Without turning around, Sam answered, “I’m so sorry, Dean.”  
That was enough of an answer for him. Sam wanted to go. For good.  
“But… he burned your acceptance letter,” Dean said. He didn’t know much about universities, never really cared about them, so he didn’t know if this letter was crucial for him being allowed into Stanford.  
Sam rummaged around in his duffle, which now hung over his shoulder, and finally faced Dean again.  
“No, he burnt a copy.”  
He handed it to Dean.  
“I knew what he’d do when I tell you. Otherwise, he would’ve ransacked my duffle, found the real letter and burned that one. I thought I could avoid the fight if I pretend not to go, throw the letter away, and then just sneak out. Should’ve known he would stay awake.”

Dean’s fingers slid over the envelope. This one was just white, no Stanford emblem or anything, meaning Sam had put the copies in the real envelope, which their dad had burned.

The fact that Sam gave Dean the original letter, the only copy left, with all its content showed how much he trusted him. John would’ve torn it apart immediately and Dean now had the opportunity to do the same thing, or give the letter quickly to their father, and Sam trusted him not to do it.  
Even as Dean pulled out a piece of paper, Sam didn’t even flinch, didn’t try to take it away from his brother again.

_Dear Sam.  
Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we offer you admission to the Stanford University Class of 2001_

No matter what he did, Dean couldn’t suppress his pride. No matter how sad he was, how angry that Sam hadn’t told him about it. But he still couldn’t say it, too shocked that Sam just wanted to leave in the middle of the night.  
“You would’ve just left without saying goodbye?”  
‘Without saying goodbye to me?’, was left unsaid, but was heard by both of them.  
Sam looked just as miserable as Dean, sad that it had even got that, that such a thing was considered in the first place.  
“I… uhm… I wrote you a note and put it in your bag. It’s still in there, so… uhm… you can read it. Or not. You probably won’t want to hear from me again after today.”

Dean immediately started to feel guilty. When did he give Sam the impression that he didn’t want to hear from him again? That he hated him?  
When he had _not_ torn his acceptance letter apart? When he had _not_ given it to John? When he had taken _his_ side when their dad said all those horrible things? When he had run after _him_ and didn’t stay inside with John.  
Now it was up to Dean to sigh.  
“I’m proud of you, Sammy,” he said, giving the letter with all its contents back to his shocked brother.  
“You are?”, Sam asked, taking the letter.  
Dean couldn’t prevent a small laugh.  
“Of course. I mean, you scored a full ride, man. For Stanford! I always knew you had it in you.”  
And it wasn’t just that. He was proud of Sam for getting out of this life. Proud that his little brother had enough courage to stand up to their dad and pursue his dreams. That he was strong enough to leave behind everything that was familiar to him and to live as he had never known.  
The tears that suddenly appeared in Sam’s eyes encouraged Dean’s to do the same. And neither of them cared. They didn’t care that they cried like girls and that they just had a massive chick flick moment because they wouldn’t see each other for a long time and now was really not the right time to play macho.

“And you know that everything Dad said isn’t true, right? Including the thing with Mom.”  
The doubting smile was only drawing more attention to his tears.  
“Sam, Mom would’ve been so proud of you. She would’ve helped you pack your things. She would’ve driven you to California, would’ve furnished your apartment with you. She would’ve said goodbye with a bear hug and left waving. She would call you every day and ask how everything is going, would want to know everything. God, Sammy, she would be so proud of you. And Dad would’ve been, too, you know. The old version of Dad, I mean. The one before…”  
Before the fire.  
“And I’m sorry I never talk about Mom and the time before, but it’s just… All I see is what we’ve lost. What happened since then. The life we could’ve had and the life you never got to see. I have at least some memories of Mom and… of the dad before, but you…”  
“It’s okay, Dean. Although it would’ve been nice to have the life with Mom and Dad, I don’t need it. I always had you, you know? I think we would never be so close if our lives were not what they are. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.”  
Dean wasn’t so sure about that, because he didn’t know for a long time now which part played a bigger role in the strength of their relationship. The one in which they were brothers who grew up in this environment or the one in which they were soulmates.  
Speaking of soulmates.  
“I thought you wanted to find your soulmate.”  
“You still remember that?” Sam asked, surprised.  
Of course, he still remembered it. Even if he were not, in fact, Sam’s soulmate, he could’ve never forgotten the night in which Sam was so upset because he would probably never find his soulmate and the night in which Dean had read the essay of his little brother, what Sam still didn’t know by the way.  
Obviously, Dean didn’t say any of that, he just nodded.  
“Well…” Sam rubbed his neck. “The chances of finding my soulmate are so infinitesimal, almost non-existent, really… Maybe I’ll find her, maybe not, but that’s not why I’m leaving.  
Dean nodded acknowledging.  
“But don’t worry. I promise you, I’ll contact you if I find her,” Sam laughed.

The two of them had never talked about soulmates again, and the last time the youngest Winchester used pronouns in connection with soulmates, it was always a ‘he’, now it’s a ‘she’. Dean knew as little as Sam, however, what exactly that meant. Perhaps Sam was even totally unaware that he used to talk about a male soulmate.

“And you call me now and again, okay, Dean?”  
That was it. The big goodbye. Dean cleared his throat to stop the tears and at the same time let the crack in his voice disappear. Vain.  
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. It’s probably better if I call you, anyway. If Dad saw that you called me, he would probably give us hell."  
“Yeah,” Sam laughed softly, but then immediately became serious again.  
“But please do it, okay? Don’t… Don’t let me think something has happened to you all the time…”  
“I won’t, don’t worry.”  
“I will worry.”  
_Then don’t leave._  
“I will, too.”  
Sam looked confused.  
“I’m just going to school. Last time I checked, no one got killed by homework.”  
“Haha, very funny,” Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress a grin.  
“But seriously. Salt lines, devil traps, all that stuff, okay?”  
Sam smiled, moved by Dean’s concern.  
“Of course, Dean.”  
For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Both were completely silent, just looking each other in the eye.  
_‘I love you.’_ Dean thought and he could practically hear Sam’s unsaid answer.  
_‘I love you, too.’_

It took several days before Dean was ready to open the letter Sam had left him. Mainly because he didn’t know what Sam could’ve written that they hadn’t already said that night, but also out of fear, because maybe Sam _had_ found words that hadn’t fallen during their last encounter.  
Only when he was with John on their first hunt after Sam left, could he persuade himself to open the letter. Although many persuasive powers weren’t really necessary, since hunting without Sam and only with their father again, after years of having both of them by his side, made Dean miss his little brother even more than usual.

John was, as already many nights before, in a bar and for once Dean hadn’t gone with him. He stayed in the motel and sat on his bed, the letter still closed in his hand. He turned the envelope over and over in his hands for a few minutes, still not entirely sure if he should really open it. But already now he noticed the absence of his soulmate and the certainty that he wouldn’t see him for a long time just confirmed him in his actions.  
He tore it open, leaning against the headboard, legs stretched out on the bed, and began to read.

_Dean,_

_I know by the time you read this, you’ll probably be angry enough, but I had to say goodbye somehow. I didn’t mean to do it like this, but you know Dad and you know me. Better than anyone else. You knew exactly how all of this would end as soon as I told you guys about Stanford. And I’m sorry it happened like that. I’m sorry I can’t be like you, or like Dad. I can’t live my life like this. The hunter life, it's just not for me. It never was and it never will be. And I know we save lives and do good, but, as selfish as it sounds, it’s not a good enough reason anymore. You and Dad, you have a reason, a drive, to continue._  
_Mom._  
_And I love her, you know, I do, but I can’t devote my entire life to a woman I only know from photos and maybe two or three memories of you.  
That’s not an accusation! I know how much it hurts you and Dad to talk about her. That’s why I stopped asking._

_Anyway, that wasn’t the point. The point is, you both have a reason to hunt, to fight, but I don’t. I have no reason to do what we do. And I want to change that. I have to change it, otherwise, I’ll go crazy. I need a reason to keep going. A purpose._

_But you already know that’s not the only motive. I don’t know if you can remember the night when I told you that I wanted to look for my soulmate. That’s also why I’m leaving._

_I know you said, all those years back, that I would never be alone, that I would never lose you, and I believe you. And I believe that you mean it and that you won’t forget me and will always be there for me, but let’s be honest. I would only stand in your way. When you find your soulmate, you will want to live with her. Continue hunting or maybe even stop it. But no matter what it’s going to be, you will be happy, because you will be with **her**. With your soulmate. And I don’t want you to constantly have your little brother in mind, who will never find his own soulmate. I just want you to be happy, to get everything you deserve. And that will not happen with me in tow.  
I’m not leaving to find my soulmate, but to make room for yours._

_These are not the only reasons why I am giving up this life, but they are the most important ones.  
I hope you’re not mad at me for too long and maybe you’ll call me again someday. If not, I know that you never want to have anything to do with me again and I would understand that. I wouldn’t be mad at you, promise._

_Please don’t think that I left because of you. It’s my fault it came to that. It was my own decisions._

_Okay, then that’s our goodbye. It’s easier that way because if we’d stand in front of each other now and you would ask me to stay, I would and then you’d never find your true happiness._

_I’ll miss you._

_I hope you’re at least a little proud._

_Sam._

By the time Dean finished the letter, tears were running down his cheeks. When he asked Sam if he wanted to find his soulmate, he said no. And that was really not the reason. He left to let Dean find his happiness. Sam didn‘t know that he took all of Dean‘s happiness with him to Stanford.  
It takes some minutes for him to remember some of the last few lines of Sam’s letter.  
_‘I hope you’re not mad at me for too long and maybe you’ll call me again someday. If not, I know that you never want to have anything to do with me again and I would understand that.’_  
He knows his little brother well enough to know that he still thinks that, even though they have said goodbye eye to eye. And Dean hadn’t contacted him yet. About time to change that.  
He picked up his phone from the bedside table and simply texted four words which actually said everything.

_I read the letter._  
_I am not mad at you._  
_I am proud of you._  
_I hope you are happy._  
_I love you._

“I miss you too.”


	3. Normal isn't normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is in Stanford, and while things are going reasonably well in the beginning, everything is going steep downhill when Sam tells his brother that he's found his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, I would like to say something.  
> All of you have probably heard by now that Supernatural will end next year. I haven't been in this fandom for too long, but I can still say that it has changed my life. This show has helped me and many others and it hurt when the news came. It still hurts and it will probably never entirely stop hurting. But Jared, Jensen, Misha, and everyone else, cast, crew, and fandom have created a basis, a foundation, that will last forever and all of us will proudly carry and continue their legacy. The show might be over, but there will always be another fanart and another fanfic and another weird fan theory. _We are here to stay._ The cast and the crew will always be part of our lives. They have, together with all of us, created something that will never end. And besides, "nothing ever really ends in Supernatural, does it?"

The next year wasn’t easy for Sam and Dean.

After Dean had sent the first message, they had started texting. Texting only, because that was easier than talking.  
This went on for a few weeks until neither of them couldn’t live without hearing the other’s voice anymore.

Sam was the first one to call, even at the risk of their father noticing. He just couldn’t stand it anymore.  
Hitherto, Dean was able to keep himself from talking to his little brother by hurling himself into hunt after hunt. Sam, however, couldn’t do that and so he was sitting in his classes, going half crazy. So, yes, he was the first to pick up the phone and call.

First, they talked every other week, then every week, and finally every other day. It went so far that they discussed Sam’s schedule during their first few calls so Dean knew exactly when Sam was free.  
Dean also began to memorize the time differences to California in every state, so he didn’t always have to look it up.  
And if he had to set an alarm clock for four in the morning to be able to talk to Sam, then that was just the way it was.

They never ran out of conversation topics. They talked about Stanford, Sam’s classes, Dean’s hunts, occasionally about their dad, Dean sometimes asked about girls Sam had designs on as not to blow his own cover. They talked about Palo Alto, about beaches, the weather, what they had eaten that day and all sorts of trivial things. It didn’t really matter to either of them what the topic of the evening was because if it was up to them, they would be okay with just hearing each other breathe for hours. Because suddenly, both had to fall asleep without hearing each other’s breathing and due to that, they sometimes even fell asleep on the phone. Just breathing. Because breathing meant being alive and if things worked well, in Dean’s case anyway, then it also meant safe.

What no one told the other was that they became sick much more often now. Sam could count on one hand how many times Dean was ill ( _ill not hurt_ ) and the same was true for Dean with Sam. But suddenly both found themselves sick with increased regularity.

Dean knew why that was.

The immune system was always the first thing to suffer when you were separated from your soulmate. Later, you became sensitive, e.g. to certain meals and physically it was generally going steep downhill.  
Their psyche was suffering as well. They were more insecure, jumpier, they felt down more often, actually depressed, really, but it wasn’t so bad this year, because they were talking to each other almost every day, even if it was just over the phone.

Yes, Dean knew all that.

Sam didn’t.

But when Sam’s first autumn quarter exams came and he spent most of his time studying and revising and therefore couldn’t talk to Dean that often anymore, things got worse for both of them.  
Sam and Dean were almost constantly ill. Colds, headaches, stomach aches, all that stuff. And it was hell for Sam to study like that, but still, he passed the exams with excellence.

When Dean had called him after his last exam and asked how it went and Sam just answered “Fine” Dean already knew his little brother might even be top of his class.  
After Sam got the results – Dean knew exactly when, he had made a note – and they talked that evening, Sam didn’t say anything about this topic, and Dean already had to grin.  
“And?”  
“And what?”  
The older Winchester rolled his eyes.  
“The exams! Your results!”  
“Oh.”  
Dean laughed. That was all he needed.  
“Nerd.”  
It was quiet for a few seconds, both of them just listening to the breathing of the other.  
“I’m proud of you,” Dean said.  
“Thank you, jerk.”  
“Bitch.”

Another half year passed when Sam suddenly changed. He was increasingly unreachable, had less and less time. Dean once asked him about that, but Sam just said he was busy because of school and that he was sorry.  
Dean believed him.  
For about two seconds, because his voice revealed to him ( _him, no one else, he was so credible, just him, just to Dean_ ) that it was something else, but he didn’t push him.

About three months later, Dean found out the reason for his brother’s change.

Dean was somewhere in wtfdoesheknow, Idaho, when Sam called him. That alone set off his alarm bells, as Dean usually was the one who called. Only because Sam had a fixed time and Dean didn’t. It wasn’t because of their dad anymore, because Sam knew both of them were now hunting on their own from time to time, even though he didn’t like it.  
So when Dean’s phone rang at about 3:30 am and he saw who called him, he was expecting the worst. Accident, ghost, witch, demon, fire. Something had happened. Maybe someone called with Sam’s cellphone from the hospital because Dean was pretty sure he was still Sam’s emergency contact.  
He was immediately wide awake and picked up his phone.  
“Sammy?” he asked hopefully, anxiously.  
“I think I found her,” was all Sam said, but that was enough. Dean let out a relieved sigh. Sam was fine. Or at least fine enough to call. He was alive, probably not hurt, it was all good. Whatever it was, he could handle it as long as Sammy was okay.  
He thought.  
“Whom?”  
“My soulmate.”  
And just like that, Dean forgot how to breathe again.  
“You… your… Wait, what?”  
At the other end, he heard Sam get up from something and passing through the room. God, that was so Sammy.  
“I know it sounds… crazy. I mean, what are the odds…? But I really think she’s it.”  
That was all too much for Dean. It wasn’t even four o’clock in the morning, he was bone-weary, had gone to bed about an hour before the call, and, most importantly, _he_ was Sam’s soulmate.  
Still, he had to pretend he was not. He had to pretend that he was only his big brother and his big brother would want to know everything, of course.  
“Wait, okay. Maybe start at the beginning. Who’s supposed to be your soulmate and how did you meet her?”  
“Her name is Jess. Jessica Lee Moore. She’s… Dean, she’s awesome.”  
Sam sounded so in awe that it almost hurt Dean more that Sam really believed she was his soulmate than it hurt him to never be able to correct him.  
“Really? Why’s that?”  
“She’s smart, creative, funny, she has a mind of her own, doesn’t take shit from anyone, knows how to defend herself, yet she’s caring and loyal.”  
Sam didn’t realize that he was also listing all the characteristics of Dean.  
“And she’s so fucking beautiful. I can’t even describe it, you have to see it for yourself.”  
And another feature of Dean.

Dean didn’t show it, but his heart ached just as it had that night when Sam walked away, actually even more. He couldn’t help it.  
“And you’re really sure it’s her?”  
“Do you remember Brady?” Sam asked.  
“Yeah,” Dean replied confused. What had he got to do with all this?  
“He noticed somewhere along our freshman year that I can see colors and pumped me who my soulmate is. When I finally told him that I didn’t have any idea, he made it his personal mission to find my soulmate or at least someone whom I can spend my life with, you know? Maybe someone who had already lost his soulmate. He dragged me to so many dates, you wouldn’t believe it. There was never anybody who felt _right_ … but a few months ago he dragged me to this party. I told you about it, remember? Anyway, he introduced me to Jess there. She is triple majoring in Art Practice, Human Rights _and_ French.”  
“Oh, so she’s as much a nerd as you are,” Dean interrupted him because only a few knew that Sam also had three majors. Yup, his little brother was insane.  
“ _Anyways_ ”, Sam continued, “she can see colors too but has also no idea who her soulmate is. She must have seen him very early, just like me, and we did a bit of research. She was born on July 24, 1983, and now guess where. In Lawrence, Kansas! At that time, we still lived there, Dean! And you must have left the house with me from time to time. We must have met there somewhere!”

This story was too perfect to be true. It sounded like a tearjerker, a chick flick, really, with a happy ending and all, and as much as Dean granted Sam this happy ending, he knew it wasn’t real. He also felt a little compassion for Jessica, because she thought that she had found her true soulmate.  
Seriously, there must’ve been something wrong with Lawrence. Their mother died there, people found their soulmates before they could even crawl…

Dean didn’t say anything for a while. What was he supposed to say anyway? ‘I’m sorry, but she isn’t your soulmate. No, I can’t tell you how I know that’?  
Besides, he felt like he was getting sick again.  
“Dean?” Sam asked uncertainly, as he stayed silent a little too long.  
“Yeah!” he said a little too loud. “Yes, I’m still here. Sorry, it’s just really late. Or early, whatever you wanna call it.”  
Sam’s concern was heard immediately.  
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to wake you! It’s just… I promised I’d tell you if I ever found my soulmate and… I couldn’t wait for you to call. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay.”  
“Where are you anyway?”  
“Idaho.”  
“What are you hunting?”  
“Witch.”  
Now it was up to Sam to just be quiet for a few seconds.  
“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“Yes.”  
“You sure?”  
“Why?”  
“Taciturn.”  
“Sorry.”  
“Dean!”  
Despite everything, Dean had to laugh a little. It sounded more agonized than amused, though. That only sparked Sam’s concern even more.  
“Are you hurt?”  
“Sam,” Dean sighed, “I’m fine, really. I’m just… a little shocked. I didn’t expect you to…”  
“Me neither,” Sam answered when Dean stopped talking.  
“But I’m really happy for you.”  
And it was partly even true. He was happy for Sam. Maybe he could really be contented with this Jessica, have a good life, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he would eventually realize that she never was his soulmate. Especially if she died first. Besides, both would still be ill very often, physically and mentally. And a third argument that Dean always dreaded was Heaven.  
It was well known that soulmates share a Heaven and even though Dean didn’t really believe in Heaven and angels and God, he was afraid that it could all be true. And on the day Sam and Dean were both dead and they met again up there, Sam would be so mad at him that the place where they were supposed to dwell in happiness wouldn’t be so happy after all.

“Thank you, Dean. That… That really means a lot.”  
Dean knew Sam could never live peacefully with Jessica if he knew Dean didn’t accept her as his soulmate.  
Silence. Until Sam clears his throat.  
“And what about you?”  
“What about me?”  
“Have you already found your soulmate?”  
“No.”

No. Everyone asked him that. Again, and again, over and over. Dad, Bobby, other hunters, witness 1, witness 2, witness 3, total strangers who know nothing better to talk about than soulmates.  
If you had already talked about the weather and awkward silence filled the air, then soulmates were the next topic people talked about. It was just another issue that pushed the awkwardness a few seconds farther back. It was kind of a flirt, expect that it wasn’t flirting, because you knew exactly, with exceptions like Sam and Jessica, whether the person in front of you was your soulmate or not. And besides, if your soulmate was already dead or you had other reasons you didn’t want to be with them, serial killers, terrorists, etc., or if you hadn’t found your soulmate yet but didn’t want to be alone, then there were special bars and restaurants where you could flirt enough. Dean went to those bars occasionally, because any hope he might’ve had that Sam and he could have a happy ending after all was long gone.  
One should believe that, to strangers, soulmates were not really an issue that should concern anyone, but many people were afraid to meet their soulmate only at the age of fifty or even later, and so they sometimes also wanted a normal relationship which they could end when they did find their real soulmate.  
Or simple one-night stands. Everything that distracted them from their ‘I haven’t found my partner for life yet, but I also don’t want to be alone’-fear.  
But maybe it was only for Dean like that, because his ‘No’ sounded so automatic by now, almost like a robot, emotionless, because _yes_ , he had already found his soulmate and _yes_ , he knew who and where he was and _yes_ , he loved him more than anything, but _no_ , they could never be together.

“Don’t worry, Dean. You’ll find her someday.”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
“Okay, you really seem tired. I’ll let you go again. Call me again soon, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“Taciturn.”  
“Bitch.”  
“Jerk.”  
Sam could feel Dean’s grin all the way to California and Dean could feel Sam’s.  
Again, both were quiet. Normally they liked to talk on the phone, but there was something in the air that made the entire situation uncomfortable and strange.

Dean knew what it was.

Sam didn’t.

They listened to each other’s breathing again, both too uneasy to say something, but still drawing assurance from each other, because even after that day, they were each other’s safe haven.  
Breathing. Living. Security.

“Sam?”  
He was so caught up in the rhythm of Dean’s breathing that he was startled when his brother said his name.  
“Yes?”  
“She better treat you right.”  
And just like that, the whole strangeness of the conversation was gone again. Dean’s big brother protectiveness was probably the only thing in the entire world that made Sam feel at home.  
“I have a feeling she will.”

The following months it wasn’t Sam who had barely time to talk, but Dean, needless to say, why.  
He hurled himself into hunt after hunt again, making excuses for himself why he could not call Sam.  
Their relationship became more and more distant. Dean wanted to give Sam the chance of living that normal life, which he wanted so much, and Sam didn’t want to take the life from Dean which, in his opinion, made sense to him. Of course, Sam didn’t know back then that Dean’s only reason to fight and keep living was Sam himself.

Because they didn’t want to destroy each other’s lives, the two of them talked less and less and as a result, their conditions got worse and worse, which was actually the exact opposite of what they really wanted.  
Illnesses, depressive episodes that sometimes lasted weeks and, as expected, Dean was worse off because he _knew_. But he didn’t tell anyone about it and nobody was there to notice. He met Bobby and John from time to time, but only on his ‘good’ days although his good days weren’t good anymore for a long time now. They weren’t even okay, but again, no one noticed.

In Sam’s case, it was noticed by Jess. Jessica herself was also sick more often than normal, had down phases, etc. but they weren’t so intense.  
She suspected that she wasn’t Sam’s true soulmate, but she wanted so much to believe it that she kept that thought to herself.  
Sam himself wrote it off as “weak immune system” and “being stressed” and “having bad days” because he was so in love with Jessica and at the same time thirsty for the normality that he got through her ( _Hey, this my soulmate, Jessica. – How was your day, babe? – Wanna go out tonight?_ ) that he didn’t want to see that his love for her was not the one of a soulmate. In fact, it didn’t even match fraternal love, because, to Sam’s knowledge, that was all he felt for Dean. Brotherly love.

At some point, everyone began going their separate ways. Sam and Dean started talking only every two weeks and eventually went back to a monthly text message and that only to let Sam know that Dean was even still alive.

That whole thing went on until Dean simply couldn’t take it anymore.  
He jumped on the first excuse he could find and drove to Palo Alto.  
He wasn’t even sure if Sam was happy to see him or not. Anyhow, he was definitely shocked when his big brother suddenly stood in his apartment in the middle of the night.  
That night, he also met Jessica.

“Dean, this is Jess… My soulmate.”

Each of them knew, consciously or unconsciously, that it was a lie.

Dean didn’t have to persuade Sam for long, because although he had initial doubts, it was still _Dean_ who asked him for help. Sam could never refuse him anything.

“I can’t do this alone.”  
“Yes, you can.”  
“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to.”  
And just the very way Dean had said that, broken and alone, made all his doubts disappear.  
“Alright. I’ll help you find him. But I need to be back first thing Monday.”  
“What’s first thing Monday?”  
Sam considered for a moment, whether he should really tell Dean or not. They hadn’t talked about Stanford and Sam’s normal future for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t even know if his brother was still interested in it, so he decided to start easy. Dean would make it obvious if he still cared what his little brother was doing.

The fact that Dean hadn’t talked to Sam anymore, hurt him more than he wanted to admit. He knew he had done the same thing to Dean, but he had a good reason for it and he did eventually call him again. Dean had simply excluded him from his life entirely. At first, Sam had tried to save their relationship, but Dean didn’t allow that to happen.  
Sam’s anger at that was soon replaced by grief and pain, but either way, there was nothing he could do about it.

“I have this… I have an interview,” Sam said.  
“What, a job interview? Skip it.”  
Dean knew he’d said something wrong when something hurt appeared in Sam’s eyes.  
For his little brother, it sounded like Dean wasn’t interested in his future anymore. And even if it were just a job interview, it would still be Sam’s chance of a good, normal life and he was supposed to just _skip it_.  
“Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna skip it,” Sam said disappointedly. He’d really thought that at least a little of their connection was still there, but apparently, he was wrong.

During their hunt for the woman in white, it only became obvious once again, what a good team the two brothers were. Although they hadn’t seen each other in four years and hadn’t talked for several months, they were immediately back in sync. They just had to look at each other and knew what the other was thinking. All this then gave Sam the impetus to tell Dean what kind of interview it really was, when he wanted Sam to go to Blackwater Ridge with him.  
“Dean, I…”  
“You’re not going?” It sounded more like a realization than a question.  
“The interview is in like ten hours. I gotta be there.”  
“I thought you were gonna skip it?”  
Sam sighed. “I can’t just skip it. It isn’t a job interview, Dean. It’s a law school interview. It’s… It’s my whole future on a plate, you know?”  
Dean was so surprised, the Impala wavered a bit.  
“Law school?” he asked astonished, but also a little sad. “Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted to go to law school?”  
Sam shrugged. “I didn’t think you would care.”  
The shock on Dean’s face was obvious.  
“Why wouldn’t I?”  
“You remember the last time you reached out to me? It was almost four months ago. You texted one word. ‘Alive’. No ‘How are you?’ or ‘How’s school?’. I mean, it wasn’t even a whole sentence, Dean. And it wasn’t the first time you did that. What was I supposed to think? That you’d still care about what and how I’m doing? That you’d still… care?”

Dean’s attempt to give Sam the normal life he wanted by giving him space had only limited effect. He had a reasonably normal life now, but at the same time he had, somewhere along the way, lost his brother.

“Of course, I still care, Sam. I was just busy.”  
“Too busy to send more than one word in months?”  
Dean’s deeds had really hurt Sam, and he only realized that now.  
“I…” Dean could find no explanation which would not have ended with the revelation that they were soulmates.  
Sam sighed again. “It’s okay, Dean. Just… take me home, alright?”

Something about the word ‘home’ just felt wrong to Dean when he thought about bringing Sam back to Stanford and leaving him there. Home just couldn’t be Sam without Dean and Dean without Sam, they just hadn’t realized that yet.

Their farewell was good, considering the circumstances, but it didn’t last long.  
Dean was still sitting in the Impala in front of Sam’s door, reluctant to drive away. It was as if an invisible rope was tied around his body, which was directly connected to Sam’s. He couldn’t just drive away, something was stopping him and whatever it was, Dean thanked God for it, because it was probably the only reason Sam was still alive.

Dean saw the flames before they burst out the window. Glowing orange on the wall, just like it looked exactly 22 years ago in their house in Lawrence. _Exactly_ 22 years ago… Fuck.

‘ _No, no, no, no, no!_!’ shouted everything inside Dean and before he even knew it he had already run up the stairs to Sam’s apartment and kicked the door in.  
“Sam!”  
He would never forget the sight that awaited him there.  
Sam, on the bed, screaming, flames everywhere, and above him, on the ceiling, also surrounded by flames, Jessica. She burnt just like their mother did.  
“No, Jess!” Sam shouted and Dean knew that if he didn’t do something, he would lose his little brother right here and now. He ran to Sam and lifted him off the bed before pushing him out of the apartment against his will.

Outside, all the students of the house and even some bystanders had gathered. Sirens could be heard in the distance, but Dean ignored everything. All his attention was on Sam.  
Sam. Standing in front of his burning apartment, his home. His girlfriend, his whole future, devoured by flames.

A young woman with blonde hair suddenly came up to them quickly.  
“Sam!” she shouted and automatically Dean stepped in front of his brother, putting himself in harm’s way, before realizing that she and Sam probably knew each other. They were still in Stanford after all.  
He stepped aside a little, but not entirely. That didn’t bother her, though, and she pushed right past Dean.  
“Oh my God, Sam! Are you okay?! Do you know what started the fire? And where is…” Slowly, the realization hit her. “Sam, where is Jess?”  
The broken expression and the tears in his eyes were all this girl needed as an answer.  
“Oh no…,” she breathed. “Sam, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Dean noticed others staring at them, probably friends and acquaintances of Sam, all thinking Jess was his soulmate and of all these people only two knew that wasn’t the case.  
Sam’s gaze moved from the girl to Dean. Eyes filled with sorrow and despair stared right into Dean’s and he needed everything in his power as not to cry as well.  
Without another word, Sam turned and walked towards the Impala. He sat on the hood, head down, hoping he was noticed as little as possible, and Dean knew exactly what he was thinking about.  
His girlfriend just died.  
His entire life, everything he had built for himself, was gone.  
And he could still see colors.  
Jessica was not his soulmate.

The blonde wanted to follow him, but she was stopped by Dean’s arm.  
“Don’t,” he said. “He needs time to think right now. That’s how he deals with things.”  
“And who are you?”, she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.  
“I’m his brother.”  
“Really? Well, he did mention a brother, but some of us really doubted that.”  
Dean jerked back. It made sense, though. Sam never had a family visit, never left during the holidays and they had little to no contact for almost two years now, so what were his friends supposed to think if not that Sam had lied?  
“Well, it's definitely good that you are here. He will certainly need you now. I mean, losing his soulmate… I can’t even imagine how that must hurt.  
“Me neither,” Dean said because it was true. He had just experienced again what it was like to fear for the life of your soulmate and it fucking hurt. So how bad was the actual loss then?

He left Sam alone for a few more minutes, made sure that no one bothered him as he went through all the things in his head. He knew for a fact that his little brother was processing such situations by thinking. It scared Dean sometimes because he never knew what Sam's brain could come up with.  
Only when Sam suddenly got up, walked around the car and opened the trunk, did Dean slowly approach him.  
Sam had a sawed-off rifle in his hands and Dean’s secret arsenal was open.  
He looked questioningly at Sam and had to swallow when he saw the tears running freely over his cheeks now. Jess might not have been his soulmate, but it was still true love that he and Jess had shared.  
The look he gave Dean before throwing the rifle back into the trunk said everything.

_It hurts._  
_I need you now._  
_Please don’t leave me._  
_I can’t do this without you anymore._

And all of that, Dean noticed, was the main reason why Sam had chosen to speak those next words. Not only because he wanted to avenge Jess so much, not only because he wanted to seek her killer now, not because he didn’t want a normal life anymore, but also simply because he needed his big brother. His soulmate. Whether he knew it or not didn’t matter. His body, his soul, needed Dean close right now and Sam didn’t care why it was like that at that moment because it hurt so much he would’ve done anything to stop it.

„We got work to do.”


	4. Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam feels lost and needs his soulmate.  
> The next morning, Sam and Dean go back to the burnt down apartment and Sam gets a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually twice as long but while editing I figured, why not just stop here and upload it? As someone who also reads fanfics, I know how much it sucks to have to wait for months to read a new chapter, but I also know that good fanfics take time. So I tried to give you something without sloppy editing but also without years of waiting time. Yeah, that's why I cut the chapter in half. ^^
> 
> Have fun reading!

They stayed in Palo Alto that night so they could check Sam’s apartment the next morning when it all cleared up.

Dean stopped the Impala in front of a motel that was not too far away, but still far enough to not smell the smoke and, at least to the two brothers, burning flesh.

Sam was the first to take a shower and then Dean.  
When he came out of the bathroom, Sam sat with a bottle of whiskey, no glass, just the bottle, and their father’s journal at the table.  
His hair was still a little wet and Dean’s clothes, since Sam’s were all destroyed, were a bit too small on him, but that bothered the two of them precious little. It was actually quite the contrary. Dean thought Sam looked even better in his clothes. But he probably just liked the way how that must’ve looked for others. As though Sam belonged to Dean completely.

The younger Winchester took a swig from the whiskey and Dean sighed.  
“Sam, it’s getting late. Why don’t you go to bed and rest for a spell?”  
Normally, Sam liked the ‘caring big brother’ manner, but now it just made him angry. He knew, of course, that Dean couldn’t help what happened that night and he wasn’t mad at _him_ , he was just mad at everything. At the thing that killed their mom and now Jess, at the fact that Jess wasn’t his soulmate and that, therefore, he would probably never find his real one. At their dad for going missing, at himself for leaving Jess in the first place.  
And at life.  
Just… at everything.  
But not at Dean.

“Rest? Are you serious? My girlfriend,” _girlfriend, not soulmate_ , “has just been murdered, Dean! My whole life, everything I’ve built for myself, went up in flames just a few hours ago! Everything I ever owned, everything that was _mine_? It’s all just _gone_! And you want me to fucking rest?!” Sam shouted angrily.  
He had expected Dean to flinch, but apparently, the older Winchester had been waiting for such an outbreak all evening.  
“Sam, there is nothing you can do about that now. We’re going back tomorrow, see if we can find anything, but tonight you need to calm down.”  
“You don’t get it, do you? I won’t be able to ‘calm down’ or ‘rest’ or whatever you wanna call it until we find Jessica’s killer, Dean!”  
“And I’ll help you with that, but, Sammy, you’ve gotta prepare yourself. This search might take a while. By the looks of it, it was the same thing that killed Mom, and Dad’s been trying to find it for years now. We will certainly not cross paths with it tonight.”

Sam knew that Dean was right, but that didn’t change the fact that Sam wouldn’t get any peace, at least not tonight.  
“I’m going out,” he said and made his way towards the door.  
Dean’s heart stopped immediately.  
“Sam, wait!” He grabbed his brother’s arm. “We don’t know if that thing’s still out there.”  
“All the better! Maybe I’ll find it today after all!”  
He turned around again to open the door when Dean pulled him back again.  
“Stop it! You are not in the condition to hunt this thing right now! You can’t think straight!”  
“As if Dad wouldn’t knife that bastard as soon as he got the chance to!”  
“No, Sam, he wouldn’t!”  
“Well, sorry, I’m a disappointment! I guess Dad was right after all!”  
Now Dean got angry, too.  
“That’s not true and you know it!”  
“But do I, Dean? I mean, I am the reason we’re in this situation now in the first place!”  
“What happened today was not your fault!”  
“Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that. Might make you feel better about staying around with someone who basically is an accessory to murder!”  
“That’s ridiculous, Sam!”

Of course, Dean still thought that. He didn’t know that Sam had dreamed about Jessica’s death for days before it happened, but Sam wasn’t going to tell him that. What if Dean left him when he saw what a freak his little brother really was.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m out.”  
Dean’s panic level rose dramatically. If Sam went out in this angry devastated state and encountered a threat, even if it were only a robber, a human, he would either go completely crazy and regret it later, or he wouldn’t have the opportunity to regret it later.  
“Then I’ll come with you.”  
Dean wanted to grab his jacket when Sam pulled his arm back and simply said “No.”  
“Sammy, please!”  
Desperate times call for desperate measures.  
“I’m not gonna lose you to your rage!”  
Sam stopped. That struck home. Because… Dean was right. And not just in this simple, physical way, as he thought.  
If Sam were to be controlled by his anger and rage now, he could end up just like their father. Swallowed by hatred and obsession. He could lose everything. He could lose Dean. The only one he had left. And the only one who ever really mattered. Sam could become a callous, cold machine, driven solely by enmity and horror, scarred by his past, with only one purpose; to kill.  
Sam knew, deep down, that he had it in him. Somehow. Somewhere. And only one person on this planet was able to stop that from happening. One person was able to keep him sane.

No, Dean couldn’t let this happen. And he didn’t. Even if it was done unknowingly.  
And Sam also had to stop himself. He needed to feel. He couldn’t just shut out the emotions. He couldn’t hide behind alcohol and hatred, as their father had done it.  
Granted, John had had no one. Back then his sons were too young to give him the comfort and the support he had needed, but Sam had Dean now. He always had him. And he would always have him. Sam couldn’t screw that up. Dean was his anchor.  
So, he allowed himself to feel. Everything came back at once. Everything he had suppressed the second he opened the trunk of the Impala.

Grief.  
Loss.  
Sadness.  
Lostness.  
Fear.  
Panic.  
Overload.  
And pain. So much pain.

Turning his back to Dean, Sam lowered his head. He didn’t notice the tears that started to form in his eyes.  
He sighed, shaking his head.  
“It hurts, Dean.” His voice was low and so broken that Dean immediately felt the need, no, the instinct, to do something. Anything.  
“It hurts so much and it won’t stop.”  
“I know, Sammy.” Dean stepped towards him. “I know and it will hurt for a little while longer, but don’t worry, I’ll be there the whole time, okay? You won’t have to go through this alone.”  
He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, in a reassuring, sympathetic and caring way.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, unable to hold back the tears any longer. He didn’t deserve Dean’s compassion and love. It was Sam’s fault Jess did after all.  
When he said nothing, Dean’s concern only increased. He had already had the experience of losing a loved one and knew what that could do to someone. He knew what it had done to himself and, above all, to their father. The way of dealing with something like that wasn’t at all a healthy one for the Winchesters, but Dean didn’t want his little brother to follow the same path of self-loathing, guilt and constant grief and mourning as Dean had done it, and back then, he was only four years old. And certainly, he didn’t want him to add alcohol and obsession to the process like John.

“Sam?”  
The youngest Winchester knew, or at least he believed, that he deserved neither Dean’s comfort nor all the other feelings and emotions his big brother showed and gave him right now, but he absorbed each and every one of them.  
It was as though only Dean’s hand on his shoulder gave him strength as if Dean _shared_ his strength with him.  
Sam realized now, at this very moment, that he couldn’t help himself. And so, he accepted his brother’s invitation to share the burden with him, for it was always easier to carry something as a pair.  
But not forever, just for tonight. In Sam’s eyes, it wasn’t Dean’s job to bear his problems, but tonight he just couldn’t do it without his big brother. It was actually contrary to Dean’s notions since he would always be responsible for his little brother, one way or another.  
Sam felt completely broken and Dean had to put him back together before he could carry everything on his own again. He didn’t know, or he thought he didn’t deserve the truth. The truth, that Dean would always be there for him and would always carry Sam’s burdens simultaneously with the youngest Winchester. They were brothers after all. Brothers and soulmates.  
No connection was stronger. Dean didn’t know back then, but the strength of the bond of family comes secondary to the one of soulmates. It is the second strongest connection. So, Sam and Dean’s bond, was stronger than anything, demons, angels, good, evil, dark, light, God and Darkness, had ever seen before. Granted, they weren’t the only sibling soulmates, but it was just something about them, that made them more. That made them more whole, stronger and deeper.  
Yeah, they didn’t know it back then, but they would figure it out soon enough.

Suddenly, Sam turned around and Dean had a trembling little brother in his arms, his face in the crock of his neck. He felt the tears and heard the sobs which wrecked his body and immediately, though surprised, put his arms around Sam, gripping him tighter.  
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.”

The next morning Sam didn’t feel well, which was understandable of course, but he felt better. Minimal. If you turned a blind eye to his state. Or both eyes.  
He woke up from a nightmare, screaming Jess’ name. Dean had his knife in his hand before realizing exactly what was going on.  
It was strange. He was no longer used to sleeping in a room with his brother, but at the same time, it was just natural to have him by his side. That was probably the reason why it didn’t take him so long to realize what had happened, as one might expect.

Dean was able to soothe him relatively quickly. If Jessica had really been his soulmate, he would have needed at least an hour more.  
The older Winchester, of course, already knew that the souls of Sam and Jess weren’t connected, but if he hadn’t, he would’ve noticed it now, at the latest.

Sam skipped breakfast and even when he wanted to persuade Dean to eat, Dean did the same. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have kept anything down, like Sam, but it was a more or less involuntary reaction. Soulmates were inherently empathetic with each other, so Dean couldn’t and didn’t want to eat.  
This gave them time to drive to Stanford early, though, and Dean thought that would be good. Nobody would disturb their search.  
He thought wrong.  
It was awful.

The first person who approached Sam was the blonde from the night before. She stood basically at the entrance to Stanford as if she had been waiting for the youngest Winchester. Dean didn’t know whether it was just a coincidence or if she had done it on purpose. Either way, it was creepy.

“Hey, Sam” She sympathetically greeted Dean’s little brother as she walked quickly towards him.  
“How are you?”  
Dean could barely stop himself from staring angrily at her. Seriously? How was he supposed to feel? This girl thought Sam’s soulmate had died. How would she have felt? What a stupid question.  
Sam probably thought the same thing, but neither said nor showed it. He was too kind, so all he managed, instead, was a little sad smile.  
“I have the greatest respect for you, Sam. The mere fact that you were able to get up today shows true strength.”  
He didn’t exactly know what it was, but Dean didn’t like this girl all that much.  
“Well, if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be here.” Sam nodded to Dean and the older Winchester knew what this statement actually meant.  
_If it wasn’t for him, I would probably be dead._

Still, Dean had to give Sam credit for his acting skills. He was a really good actor. But Dean, of course, could read him like a book. He knew when Sam was lying, when something was wrong, etc., but other people… not so much. Respect.  
Sam’s voice sounded genuine. Authentic. As if he had really lost his soulmate, but one could also clearly hear the appreciation and the gratitude for Dean. And Dean’s heart clenched in his chest and exploded with love at the same time.

The girl also looked at Dean with a mixture of gratitude and a little curiosity. But who can blame her? No one had seen Sam’s brother until then and now he suddenly appeared and acted as if he was the best big brother in the world? Which, in Sam’s eyes, he was, but not in everyone else’s. Not even in Dean’s himself.

Suddenly, her eyes were sad again.  
“Have you already… You know… Told her parents?”  
“The school administration hasn’t called them yet?” Sam asked surprised, shocked and immediately a little anxious.  
“No, they… uhm… they know you’re her soulmate.” The girl shrugged apologetically. “And since you’ve met her parents and they know it too…”  
Normally, it was up to your soulmate, if you had already met them, to inform relatives if you had died. Just because they are the first one to know and because they can pay their soulmate respect and show their love again one more time.  
The person who loved you the most should also represent you.

So, it wasn’t unusual that your significant other was left with this difficult task, but that wasn’t what shocked Dean. It was the fact that Sam had met Jessica’s parents and they also know him as their daughter’s soulmate.  
Although Dean knew it was serious between the two of them – Sam had let her closer than anyone else ever, after all – he didn’t know it was that serious.

A new wave of sorrow flooded him. Sam’s pain had to be deeper and stronger than he had initially thought. He knew that Sam also knew, deep inside, that Jess wasn’t his real soulmate, but perhaps it was too deep to really notice it after all? Did Sam really think he had found the love of his life?

Sam’s voice brought Dean out of his thoughts.  
“I’ll… I’ll call them, then.”  
“Are you sure you want to do it? I could…”  
What was wrong with this girl? Why did she never finish her sentences? Did she think, if she didn’t say it out loud, it would be less real? It would hurt less?  
“Thanks, Becky, but I should be the one to tell them.”  
_It’s my fault anyway._

The next person who spoke to Sam was a young man with short blond hair. Sam already saw him a few seconds before he even noticed them, and so did Dean.  
The man also seemed to be kind of tuned to Sam somehow, because as soon as Sam looked in his direction, he turned around.  
Contrary to what Dean had expected, Sam also turned around and looked at him.  
“Ah fuck,” he said.  
“What?” Dean asked.  
“That’s Brady. The one I told you about. He introduced me to Jess,” Sam whispered, his back half turned to the man.  
“Ah fuck,” Dean said.  
“Sam!” Brady shouted as if they hadn’t already seen him. He jogged over to the two brothers and stopped in front of them. His eyes lingered on Dean, but he didn’t talk to him. Not even a simple “Hello” or “How are you?” Not even a “Who are you?” which he more or less expected from all of Sam’s acquaintances, simply because his little brother had been at Stanford for about four years now and no one had ever seen him with Dean. Now his soulmate dies and suddenly some dude is not letting him out of his sight? If he were one of Sam’s friends, he would be pretty damn suspicious. But, he guessed, that’s just him. Paranoid on whole new levels. Even though he wouldn’t call it like that. In his mind, he wasn’t paranoid. He was cautious.  
And due to this cautiousness, he had a very bad feeling about this Brady. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but he didn’t like being near him. And he was even less keen about him being near his little brother.

“Hey, how are you holding up, buddy?” Brady asked and it sounded almost too compassionate. However, Sam did not seem to notice.  
“You do realize the irony of this question, don’t you?”  
“Yeah, I do,” he said apologetically. “It’s just… one just doesn’t know how to start such a conversation, you know?”  
Sam shrugged understandingly. “Don’t worry, I get it. I wouldn’t know it either.”  
“Yes, you would,” Brady disagreed. “You always find the right words for everything.”  
Whoever that Brady was, Sam and he seemed to be getting along just fine, given the fact that they had some sort of small talk, even though the circumstances had actually pre-programmed awkward expressions of condolences and stupid questions.  
Sam just smiled.  
Then said circumstances regained their control over the situation again and uncomfortable silence spread between them for a few seconds.  
Brady seemed to be thinking about what he wanted to say next.  
“I’m sorry to ask, and… you don’t need to answer, but… what are you going to do now? Now that…”

Sam looked around the campus. Students walked back and forth, went to their classes, sat on benches and lawns, blocks, pens and laptops in their hands. They just lived their lives. Some looked at him regretfully, others didn’t. Some he knew, others he didn’t. Either way, they were smart, creative people with great potential. People who had ideas, inventions, and solutions to yet undiscovered problems. But, most importantly, they were _normal_. And for the first time in a long time since Sam came to Stanford, he felt even more out of place than he did back when he was still hunting.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe… I’ll take a break. Explore the world together with my brother for a little while.”  
Dean’s eyes widened. That was new.  
“Yeah, well, nobody would blame you. I think Stanford would even approve your break and then resume your scholarship. There have to be exceptional cases like…”  
“Death of your soulmate? Yeah, I bet. Listen, Brady, we really need to get going, okay? But I appreciate your concern.”  
Dean didn’t know how Sam did it, but he could brush anybody off so easily and still be so kind at the same time.  
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Take a break, have some time for yourself. And call me if you need anything, okay?”  
“Of course. Thanks, Brady.”

After the third person who walked over to him and Sam – a woman, apparently a good friend of Jess, crying, almost having a breakdown when she saw him – and she said “She loved you so much, Sam. She really did. God, why her?” over and over again, Dean slowly became not only annoyed but also angry. Didn’t anyone know that, in such a situation, you could, of course, express your condolences, but shouldn’t philosophize about Sam’s future, only one day after the freaking fire?  
After person four and five did exactly that, Dean had enough.

“Okay, that’s it,” Dean said after Sam had sent the for now last person away, of course in his own friendly Sam style. He looked questioningly at his older brother.  
“Isn’t there a more inanimate way to your apartment? One where not every third person comes over and asks questions that are actually self-explanatory or just outright rude?”  
A small smile crept across Sam’s face. Probably the first real smile since last night. His big brother, always the protector.  
“It’s okay, Dean. Many people here know Jess and me and they are also sad that… uhm… well, you know.”  
“That’s all well and good, but don’t they see they aren’t making it better?”  
It sounded more like an insult than it should’ve, but of course Sam knew what message his brother actually wanted to get across.  
“Dean, people apologize or express their condolences when something like this happens. It’s like a… social rule. And this rule can be interpreted differently. Some people just say they’re sorry, and others want comfort and therefore talk a little more. That’s just the way it is.”  
“This rule is stupid,” Dean muttered and Sam laughed softly and for Dean that alone was worth sending the social rules to hell.

In front of the house, where Sam’s and Jess’s apartment was, lay piles of stuffed animals, pictures of Jessica, some with Sam, but also many with other friends of hers, and various flowers, letters, and candles.  
_’Fucking candles?’_ Dean thought. _‘They do know the official cause of death was a fire, right?’_  
Sam stood in front of the pictures, took a quick look at the photos, bit the inside of his cheek and ran a hand over his face to get rid of the moisture building in his eyes. Dean was kind enough to ignore it and not make another drama out of it.

“Dean.” Sam turned to face him.  
“Forget it, Sam,” Dean said. “You’re not going in there alone.”  
Sam was only briefly surprised his brother knew his intentions right away, but then he remembered that Dean had always been able to read him easily. Sometimes way too easy. Sam wasn’t an open book to anyone, except his soulmate.  
“You don’t know what it will look like in there and the building could be close to collapsing by now.”  
“Another reason why two people shouldn’t go up there. Besides, somebody has to watch out for the police.”  
Fair enough. Dean had seen the police line from afar and knew they had to be wary of strangers. Even more, of the state authority.  
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t think this is a good idea.”  
“Please, Dean. This is something I have to do on my own.”  
_Not alone. He knew Dean would never leave him right now. Not alone, just on his own._  
And there they were. Sam’s puppy dog eyes. And just like that, Dean gave in.  
“Fine,” he said, not very enthusiastic. “But you’ll come back as soon as something starts to feel wrong or something _is_ wrong, you understand me?”  
He gave Sam the EMF meter. It wasn’t really necessary, though. Both already knew that it had to be the same thing that killed their mother 22 years ago, but they didn’t want to omit any opportunity.  
Sam thanked him and not just for the EMF meter.

Sam came back about thirty minutes later.  
“Nothing,” was the only thing he said as he walked right past Dean and back to the motel. He walked so fast no one spoke to him on the way back, either because he looked like he wanted to be left alone or because he was simply too fast to catch up with.  
Dean also said nothing on the entire way back. Even in the Impala, the ultimate chick-flick-moment-location, no word was spoken. Mainly because Sam was lost in his thoughts again. Even after his little brother looked at his watch several times, as if he was waiting for something, but at the same time couldn’t make a decision, and Dean had no idea what Sam was thinking, which was relatively unusual for him, he stayed quiet and gave him his space.

Only when Sam disappeared in the bathroom with an “I’ll take a shower” and a few minutes later his phone rang, which he had thrown onto his bed before leaving the room, Dean knew what was going on again.  
Dean picked up the phone. He didn’t know the number, it certainly wasn’t their dad’s, and Dean considered letting it go to voicemail. But then again, the circumstances weren’t exactly normal, even for their standards, and it could’ve been friends or family of Jess or maybe even John after all. Maybe he had heard what happened and somehow managed to get his hands on another phone. But that would’ve meant he wasn’t really missing after all, he was just not telling his sons about his whereabouts, which, okay, wasn’t exactly the first or the second or the 100th time, but now it was different. Dean could feel it.

But it was neither a friend of Jessica, nor John.

“Hello?”  
“Good afternoon, my name is Karen Johnson from Stanford Law School. Am I talking to Sam Winchester?”  
Law School. Of course. Suddenly, everything made sense again. That was why Sam had kept looking at his watch. That’s why he had looked so thoughtful. And not the ‘I lost Jess to a supernatural creature’-thoughful. Sam had contemplated whether he should go to his interview or not and apparently, he had decided against it.  
“Uhm… No. No, here is his brother. Dean Winchester.”  
“Mr. Winchester, we expected your brother for an interview about an hour ago.”  
It sounded like an accusation, but Dean didn’t quite know if it was meant as such. Either way, he immediately felt as if he had to defend his little brother.  
“You don’t know what happened?”  
“Sir?”  
“There was a fire last night.”  
“We are aware of that.”  
_’Well if you are aware then why don’t you know **where** it was?’_  
“Well, it was in his apartment.”  
“Oh,” Karen said and it sounded genuinely surprised. “Is he hurt?” Worry filled her voice, but once again Dean wasn’t sure if she was just acting.  
“No, he’s fine, but his-“  
“Dean? What are you doing with my phone?”  
The older Winchester turned around, startled. Sam stood in the door to the bathroom, hair wet and wearing the same clothes as before.  
The shower hadn’t really achieved much because Sam was still wearing Dean’s clothes, and after his little visit to his burned down apartment, they still smelt of smoke, but Sam hadn’t found time to buy new ones yet.

“Who is it?” Sam asked, walking up to Dean.  
His older brother didn’t know what to say. Somehow, he had the feeling Sam didn’t want Dean to remember the interview.  
When Dean didn’t answer, Sam took the phone from his hand and glanced at the display.  
“Oh crap,” he said. Sam knew the number. It was the same one he had been waiting for a call for weeks to get either the rejection or the acceptance of the interview.  
“Why did you answer it?” Sam covered the microphone with one hand and held the phone away from them.  
“I didn’t know-“  
“Sir?” Dean was interrupted by Karen Johnson.  
Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed, and lifted the phone to his ear.  
“Sam Winchester.”  
“Ah, Mr. Winchester. We had expected you, but your brother just told us about the tragic incident. I hope you are well. Did someone get hurt?”  
Dean could hear the voice even without Sam putting her on speaker and wondered how not all Stanford employees had heard of the death of a student at their own school.  
“I’m fine, but my… I couldn’t make it to the interview in time, I’m sorry.”  
Dean could only guess why Sam hadn’t told them about Jessica. Maybe he didn’t want to say his soulmate had died because it was a lie. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear more condolences. Maybe because of some other reason, Dean didn’t know, but no matter what it was, it felt wrong that Sam was apologizing.  
“That’s alright, Mr. Winchester. These are special circumstances we can give you another date for the interview.”  
“That is very kind of you, but unfortunately I have to decline.”  
Dean stared at Sam, his mouth wide open. Although he had noticed, of course, that Sam had said he wanted to “explore the world” with Dean, which meant nothing more than chasing and killing monsters, most importantly the one who killed Mary and Jess, he didn’t expect Sam to completely reject his opportunities for a new interview. And that not only shocked Dean.  
“Are you sure? Mr. Winchester, you have great potential. Your letters of recommendation alone almost convinced us and together with your optional essay and your test results of the LSAT… You could be very successful.”  
Karen was definitely overwhelmed with the situation. But who could blame her? She most likely has never been in this position before. Trying to convince a student to accept an interview to _Stanford Law School_? Who the hell would reject such an opportunity in the first place? Well, Sam, apparently. And they wanted Sam. They really wanted him. So much, they tried to convince _him_.  
Dean didn’t even know how much work his little brother had to put into this acceptance for an _interview_ but he must have done a pretty good job. So how could he just throw it away now?  
“I don’t need that kind of success right now.”

Both, Sam and Dean, heard their father’s words from the night Sam went to Stanford in their heads as if he were saying it right now.

_“Of course, because you disappoint your parents so much when you get accepted into a very good university and have a chance of a good and successful life!”  
“Success! Is that what you want?! Doesn’t lifesaving count as a success for you?!”_

The woman remained persistent and though it was annoying, Dean was once again immensely proud of his brother. If one of the most prestigious elite universities almost begged to convince Sam to accept, he must have been even smarter than Dean had thought. And he had already given his little brother a lot of credit.  
“Sir, I understand your situation is currently somewhat unforeseen and delicate, but please do not reject this possibility impetuously. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but your acceptance is almost certain.”  
Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One could feel his uncertainty clearly. He thought about it.  
Everyone was saying and thinking of the word ‘opportunity’ again and again. But was it really one? Years ago, he had the opportunity to get out of the hunting life and now look where it had got him. Now he had the opportunity to _stay_ out of the hunting life, but why would he? He wanted to leave because he didn’t belong there, but now he didn’t belong here anymore either. He looked around and saw normal and after everything, he wasn’t. He wasn’t normal and he could no longer act like he was. Besides, Jess was dead, because of him, and the only person he really needed right now was right in front of him.

“I’m sorry, but my answer is no.”  
He hung up.  
Sam and Dean just stood in front of each other. The older of the two didn’t know what to say. Sam had just thrown away his entire future, as he had put it yesterday. Everything he had worked so hard for was just gone now.  
Actually, Dean knew exactly what to say.

“Sam, are you sure you don’t want this? I mean, you worked so hard for it and clearly you made a very good impression. They wanted to accept you even without really knowing you! You have really good chances here, man. And this Brady said they would probably even approve your break. We can drive away, give you some time to think and then you come back and-“  
“Stop it,” Sam said, without further explanation.  
Dean wasn’t sure what exactly was going in his little brother’s head right now. Something, that happened way to often these days and Dean didn’t like it one bit.  
Still, there were exactly two possibilities.  
Either, Sam was a mess. Completely messed up and confused and just had put off thinking.  
Or he had planned these next weeks ahead, had already thought about everything, calculated every possibility in his head and decided what his life would now look like. And no one could stop him, no matter how stupid and maybe dangerous it might be.  
But whatever Sam’s choice was, Dean would be there.

The older Winchester looked at the younger one, his eyebrows contracted, trying to figure out which of the two upper scenarios was going on right now, but he just couldn’t decide.  
It was quiet for a while and neither of them knew what to say next. But to escape the awkwardness, Dean finally said, “I’ll take a shower, too, then,” and disappeared into the bathroom relatively quickly.


End file.
